416 Southern Historical Society Papers.
and knocked senseless, and clambering over the timber we had g^ot fairly in among them.
But, not to anticipate ; on emerging from the woods the scene was one of stern and imposing grandeur. The smoke of the previous combats was slowly drifting out of the forest and rising like a thin veil between us and the enemy. Through the haze could be seen the long line of infantry, splendidly equipped and motionless as so many statues, the sombre blue of their uniforms relieved by a shining crest of steel, the gold blazonry of the regimental colors, and the gay hues of the national flag.
PANDEMONIUM BROKE LOOSE.
No time, however, was lost in admiration. Our men at once settled down behind the logs, rested their muskets on the tree-trunks, and fired. I was fain to content myself with a small pine (all the time wishing it was as big as the red woods) and blazed away over their heads. The enemy at once opened vigorously. Other regiments formed upon their flanks. The Eleventh came up on our right and the Seventeenth on our left. A Federal battery opened down the line; then one began to bellow upon the right. Stuart's horse artil- lery came up and unlimbered, and the guns at Fort Magruder began to play. Hooker put in his last man and so did Longstreet. Kearney's division came up and Hooker put that in. Longstreet received two regiments from D. H. HilPs division, and put them in. It was pan- demonium broke loose. It seemed to me as if the brass pieces fairly howled, while the roll of the small arms was something indescribable. Ordinarily heavy musketry rises and falls like the sound of the sea, but here it was one deep, incessant, prolonged, deafening roar.
Our men began to fall. Ensconced as they were behind logs, when hit they would ordinarily be struck in the head or throat and killed. They dropped in all sorts of positions, some falling suddenly forward ; others sliding gently backwards or sideways ; one fell all in a heap, as if he had collapsed^ One death was most tragic and yet with a touch of the absurd. Among the recruits joining us at Yorktown were a backwoods father and son, whose rustic demeanor was the jest of the regiment. The old man clung to the old-fashioned, tall silk hat; the son followed at **pappy*s** heek wherever he went.
Both fell in this battle, fighting like lions. The old man was close by me and I could not but notice him and his high hat as I fired over him. A man fell by him — possibly his son — but the old hero never stopped. Presently he fell over gently to the ground, shuddered,
